


Which is Your Favourite?

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baked Goods, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Happy Secrets, Love, M/M, Steve Takes Up Baking, Surprises, relationships, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony loves that Steve has picked up new hobbies in the 21-st century, but the obsession with baking vlogs is causing some problems for his waistline. Or at least, he thinks that's the only problem, but is Steve keeping something from him?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 79
Kudos: 861





	Which is Your Favourite?

**Author's Note:**

> A little fluffy fluff for my darling friend, S. Hope you were cheered <3
> 
> Thanks to ashes0909 for beta.

"I'm getting fat," Tony whined, popping his top button and slumping low in his chair.

Steve poked a finger into his overfull belly. "You're just a bit soft."

"Hey!" Tony swatted at him. "You're supposed to tell me I'm still as perfect and sexy as I was at twenty-two."

"I didn't know you at twenty-two," Steve shot back with a smirk, and yeah he was definitely trying to rile Tony up on purpose. He picked up Tony's dessert plate and headed back into the kitchen.

Tony leaned backwards over his chair, letting his head flop back so he could watch that ass walk away upside down. "I had abs at twenty-two because my boyfriend wasn't a seven thousand calorie a day superhero who decided that his favourite thing about the new millennium was baking vlogs."

Steve's lip curled. "I still think vlog sounds like a venereal disease."

"They don't call it that anymore."

Steve tilted his head to the side. "I'm pretty sure they didn't have vlogs at all in the 1930s."

Tony rolled his eyes. "No jury would convict," he shot back. He pushed up out of his seat with a groan, and strong arms curled around his back. 

"No one made you eat the third caramel cookie bar, Tony."

Tony covered Steve's hands with his own. "You say that but if I hadn't, you would have been all 'but Tony you had three of the danishes and two slices of apple walnut cake, but only one caramel cookie bar, did you not like it?' and there would have been spreadsheets and shit, and you would have made me fill out surveys about my favourite baked goods." He leaned back against Steve's chest and dragged Steve's hand down to rub over his tummy.

"I'm not like that," Steve said petulantly.

"You're a little like that, sweetheart. JARVIS is going to have to let out the armour."

Steve's fingers snuck down into Tony's waistband. He pressed his lips to the side of his neck. "I think you're even sexier now than you were at twenty-two. And your abs are fucking stunning."

"Keep sweet talking like that and I'll let you get to third base, Mr. America."

"That's Captain to you." Steve swept Tony off to the bedroom, leaving the dishes for tomorrow morning.

**

Tony came home from a long day in SHIELD negotiations to find Steve with flour in his hair and a shocking amount of cocoa powder smeared across the front of his apron. Tony opened his mouth to say something devastatingly clever but Steve looked up from where he was folded over his reinforced kitchen tablet and everything but "I love you, you dork" fell out of Tony's brain.

"Please tell me you didn't eat at the meeting," Steve begged.

"Of course not. I knew it would break your little bald eagle heart so I suffered through three carrot sticks and eighteen thousand cups of coffee just for you."

Steve beamed.

"Downside. I'm now so hyped up on caffeine, you're going to have to scrape me off the ceiling to feed me."

Steve sauntered over and backed Tony up against the door before kissing him even stupider than usual. "Would a massage help you relax? This has to bake for thirty minutes."

Tony snorted. "If you think thirty minutes is possibly enough time for a massage  _ and  _ a happy ending then you've got a thing to learn my gorgeous, perfect, little Martha Stewert wannabe."

Steve grinned against Tony's lips. "Who said anything about a happy ending, Mr. Stark?"

"Well, I think we deserve one, don't you?"

After dinner - which was late - Steve produced homemade butterscotch brownies. "Which is your favourite?" he asked, when Tony was finished.

"How am I supposed to pick a favourite?"

**

Tony woke up to sweet smells flooding the apartment. He yawned and stretched and pulled on one of Steve's shirts to shuffle into the kitchen. Steve was filling a line of mini loaf pans with batter. Tony swiped a finger through the batter then sucked it off. "Mmm. delicious."

"You like banana bread?" Steve asked. 

Tony went for another swipe, and Steve whacked the back of his hand with a wooden spoon. "Love it. Smells like cinnamon and sin in here."

Steve's eyes glinted with mischief. "Think it's just cinnamon, actually, but we can make the other thing happen."

Tony pretended to swoon. "You'll be the death of me, Rogers."

"Come here."

By the time the tiny loaves were finished baking, Steve had been stripped of everything but the oven mitts, but he still managed to get them out without burning.

On the couch that afternoon, Steve curled Tony against his chest and fed him little bites with his fingers. "Good?"

"Perfect."

"Is it your favourite, though?"

Tony shrugged. "Favourite is an impossible question."

**

Tony leaned over a stool and watched Steve fold pastry over and press the edges down carefully, tongue caught between his teeth. "I didn't know turnovers were such a tense procedure," he whispered.

"Tony…" Steve warned. "I'm trying to focus. I don't want the filling to spill out."

"They look perfect, babe."

"Can you hand me that fork?"

"Yes, doctor," Tony said. "Scalpel next? Suction? Is he going to make it, doc?!"

Steve giggled and the fork slipped and stabbed a hole in one of the pastries. He sighed down at it. "Now it's going to leak."

"I'll eat that one." Tony pushed up until he was balanced precariously on his stool so he could press a kiss to the end of Steve's nose.

Steve ate that one, even though the spilled filling burned the bottom a little.

Tony hooked his fingers in Steve's belt loops and pulled him in for an after-dinner kiss. "Top notch, sweetheart."

"Favourite?"

"They're all my favourite," Tony said diplomatically, but for some reason that just made Steve pout.

**

Over the next month, Steve made cherry pie, date squares, cheesecake, lemon blossoms, snickerdoodles, and four different kinds of muffins. Tony started getting up earlier to add an extra fifteen minutes to his morning workout. 

**

Tony's bag slid down off his shoulder as he pushed the front door open and it caught in the crook of his elbow, throwing him off-kilter. "Oof." He shuffled inside with a sigh. He had to admit, he was looking forward to Steve's baking tonight. It had been a long day with too much arguing and not enough sweetness and he wanted both kinds of sugar Steve had to offer pressed to his lips.

But the apartment was disappointingly dark when he stepped inside. The kitchen was quiet and empty and there were no enticing smells leaking out of the oven. Tony couldn't help the pout that pulled the corners of his mouth down. He sighed and dumped his bag by the shoe rack then kicked his boots off. Steve must have had a thing tonight that he'd forgotten about. Damn. If he'd remembered, he would have ordered something to be delivered when he got home. Now he was going to have to wait upwards of an hour for anything to arrive and he was  _ hungry.  _

Tony shuffled past the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom. He pushed open the door and stopped short. Steve was in the bedroom, back to the door, and he had his phone in his hand. As soon as the door opened, he spun around, yelped, and  _ threw his phone.  _

It bounced off the far wall with a permanent sounding crunch. 

"Good evening," Tony said. He blinked. "I would have called ahead, but I live here."

"Tony. Jesus." Steve's hand went to his chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

"You're Captain America. I didn't think that was possible."

"I'm - I lost track of time." Steve's eyes shifted side to side.

"Okay…" Tony looked around the dark apartment, feeling a bit at a loss. It wasn't like he had any reason not to trust Steve, but he was being weird, there was no question about that. "Do you want me to like… go?"

"What? No… no. You want a shower?"

Steve seemed to want the answer to be "yes" for some reason, so Tony nodded and started stripping down. And the fact that Steve didn't follow him into the bathroom or even make a grab for his naked ass as he walked by made Tony worry even more.

Tony tried to let the hot water wash away his tension, but he and Steve had been dating for three years and he'd never seen him act like this - cagey and secretive and so on edge that he shield-chucked his phone straight into tech heaven. The question was: was this something where he needed to push or something where Steve needed his space?

He was confident that whatever it was, if it affected Tony, Steve would come to him to talk it through. Steve wasn't the type to make unilateral decisions without talking to Tony first. It was one of the deep comforts of their relationship that Tony was one hundred percent certain that if Steve ever considered breaking up he would first have to make four spreadsheets, a strategy chart, and have Tony sit in on at least eight weekly Relationship Examination Meetings. Steve didn't do surprises, of any kind. So this was weird.

The only conclusion Tony could come to was that Steve was holding someone else's secret for them and it was something he couldn't share with Tony without permission. 

Tony shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He rubbed down with a towel and tossed it in the hamper on the way back into the bedroom. He dressed for comfort and headed back out of the kitchen, yawning and stretching. It was definitely too late to get takeout now, but maybe there was still a square of frozen lasagna in the freezer.

But when he stepped into the kitchen, he was brought up short again. Steve was sitting at the kitchen table his face down on the placemat in front of him, arms hanging loosely at his sides. "Babe." Tony dropped his hands to the back of Steve's neck and rubbed his thumbs in. "Can you at least tell me vaguely what's bothering you?"

Steve sat up, continuing back until his head leaned against Tony's stomach. "I'm so bad at this."

Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead. "What's this? Are you helping Nat with something?"

About forty emotions flickered across Steve's face and finally melted into singular resolve; that was a face Tony knew well.

"Okay, fuck this," Steve said. "Sit here." He pointed at the chair opposite to Tony's usual, back to the kitchen.

"Okay…" Tony sat, hands folded in his lap.

"I'll be right back."

Tony waited, listening to the fridge open and close and plates rattle. A minute later, he felt Steve come up behind him, his presence like static electricity crackling in the short hairs on Tony's neck. He'd always know Steve was there.

"I wanted to know your favourite," Steve murmured, close, so close. "But you wouldn't pick. And I tried everything, because I wanted this to be special, but - fuck it. I just - I went with a classic. And there was a whole plan with dinner but then I got home late and I didn't have time to put the casserole in the oven, and I texted Nat to see if she could slow you down or hold you up, but she wasn't answering and then I felt like shit trying to hold you up anyway, cause you were probably hungry, so I went to just order something instead, but then I would have to wait for it to arrive, and I - I  _ can't wait anymore.  _ I do think we deserve a happy ending. Here," Steve finished breathlessly.

A plate appeared in front of Tony. On it sat a single chocolate cupcake. And on the cupcake -

"What."

"I thought we should do dessert first," Steve croaked.

"Steve. Steve. Steven."

"Yes?"

"Can you - can you come here?" Tony gestured vaguely towards the seat next to him.

Steve sat down heavily.

"Look, babe, I know you are new to baking and all and sometimes the customs of the future confuse you so maybe no one told you that engagement rings are not, like, normal cupcake decorations. Just, perhaps, no one told you that."

There was a soft thud as Steve's knee hit the floor. "Tony."

"Holy shit." Tony finally dragged his eyes away from his cupcake to Steve who was looking up at Tony like he hung the damn moon and  _ fuck,  _ he'd never get sick of that. "Marry me," Tony said.

"Yes. What?" Steve's brow furrowed. "Wait, no. I'm saying that."

"You weren't saying it fast enough."

"Is that a yes?"

Tony launched himself out of his chair and flung himself into Steve's arms, who thankfully seemed to have recovered his super serum reflexes since the Great Phone Incident, because he caught Tony around the middle and pulled him in close, nestled against his chest. "Yes," Tony said. "That's a yes with sprinkles on top."

Steve gathered Tony into a kiss so full of giddy excitement that Tony could taste the metallic buzz coming off him, like licking a nine volt battery. 

"Were you really doing all this baking to find my favourite so you could propose with it?"

Steve's cheeks pinked. "Maybe. I mean I do like baking. But I wanted tonight to be perfect. And instead it was an unmitigated disaster."

Tony scoffed. "I just agreed to marry you and you're calling it an unmitigated disaster? Wow, harsh."

Steve broke into the kind of desperate laughter that meant he'd been strung tighter than a violin all day and it was finally starting to give. "Okay, that part was pretty great, I'll admit."

Tony cupped his face and pulled him into a softer, easier kiss. "You nailed it, Steve. My absolute favourite."

"Cupcakes?"

Tony brushed Steve's hair back from his face then traced the edge of his grin. Later, Tony would put on the ring and they'd order sushi and he'd find out if there was extra icing he could convince Steve to lick off his abs. But for now he just dragged Steve into another kiss. He pushed their foreheads together. "You. You're my favourite. Always."


End file.
